


The Nurse of Honour

by ceisadilla



Category: Dangan Ronpa, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Vigilantism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-13
Updated: 2014-05-13
Packaged: 2018-01-24 15:03:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1609391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceisadilla/pseuds/ceisadilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mikan gains inspiration from the magical girls she would see as a child, and fights back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Nurse of Honour

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place in a non-despair AU, where SHSL isn't really a thing??

She was almost finished, and was adding the finishing touch to her costume. Every hero had one, didn't they? Every magical girl in a shoujo manga had one, so why should she be an exception? She was going to be a hero, in some way, wasn't she?

  
Mikan picked up the fabric surgical mask, and secured it behind her ears, covering her mouth and nose. Rough bandage skimmed the shell of her ear as she lowered her hand, and stood before the mirror. There was fear in her eyes, but wasn't there always? Tonight, that fear was going to leave forever.

  
The mask had been dyed a subtle pink, a trick she had achieved with beetroot from dinner a few nights ago. The rest of the outfit had been hand sewn by Mikan late at night, while her father slept. It had taken a couple of weeks to prepare, and she had endured a lot in the days inbetween, but it was ready now, and so was she.

  
She had been unconfident when making it, but now that she wore the pastel pink playsuit, Mikan felt like herself for the first time in her life. She had adapted the pattern, and styled it on a nurse's uniform. Mikan would have liked to have been a nurse. Perhaps a less hostile homelife would have allowed her to study well enough to follow that dream. Maybe some day.

  
Bandages still covered her arms and legs, of course. There were unhealed cuts from that week that needed time to recover. Mikan's time was now. Uneven hair had been tied into two low, loose pigtails, to keep it out of her way. She picked up the craft knife from her desk, and left her tiny bedroom to confront her father for the last time.

  
She could never forgive the abuse from him, and she would not take it any longer. Mikan had always wanted to help people. If she could help by stopping abuse by any means, then she would take that chance. Her father had been drinking, and there was no way he could fight back in this state.

  
Mikan was ready to stop him, and all others like him, for good.


End file.
